


Take Your Breath Away

by orphan_account



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, pastel!vegan!dan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-23 05:06:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3755524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Phil smiles brightly at him and Dan’s stomach does the flipping thing again. He wishes he’d talked to Phil before this – he’s really incredibly kind. Nothing like the rest of his football friends, all of whom are assholes to Dan. They don’t like his accent, or the way he dresses, and him being vegan is just another thing they like to hold against him. He’s not ashamed of it – not in the slightest – but it does get exhausting to hear the constant dick jokes. They don’t make sense anyway – he doesn’t eat sausage. That’s sort of the point of being vegan.</em><br/> </p><p>(american high school au feat. Cool Dude phil and pastel!vegan!dan)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Your Breath Away

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on on [my tumblr](http://hearteyeshowell.tumblr.com) (come say hello!)

“So, like, what, you don’t eat meat?”

Phil isn’t stupid, judging from the A on the lab report laying on the desk in front of him, but Dan’s been asked the question so many times that it makes him cringe. He sighs.

“No animal products at all,” he says, his mouth stretching into a faked smile. “No butter, no eggs, no cheese. Plant-based stuff only.” Phil’s eyes go wide.

“Wow, that’s so cool! Is it difficult?”

Dan was expecting another reaction entirely – people mostly roll their eyes, or laugh, or say something along the lines of  _I would never do that_  – so the question takes him by surprise.

“Er, not really,” he says, pushing his hands down his thighs nervously. “It was when I first started, but mostly because of like. Clothing limitations and stuff.”

Phil’s eyes are wide and bright behind his glasses and he leans forward a little, his body language open and interested. Dan can feel himself blushing. He’s never really done anything but admire Phil from afar before, despite them being in the same biology class and having several mutual friends. Phil’s grossly attractive, his body lean and toned from cross country, a half-hidden tattoo on his left forearm that Dan’s been intrigued by for months but has never had the courage to ask about. Their teacher made a new seating chart though, and she put Dan and Phil at the same lab table, so they’ve been making polite conversation for most of the class period while they worked on an assignment about Punnett squares.

“I thought it was just food?” Phil asks. Dan shakes his head.

“No animal products or byproducts,” he explains earnestly. “So, like, obviously no leather, and no wool, no silk, nothing that comes from animals.”

“Silk comes from animals?” Phil says. He looks alarmed. Dan’s stomach does a weird little flippy thing and he grins.

“Well, no, they’re bugs technically, silk worms, but it’s the same concept,” he tells Phil, who nods, his eyes still wide and fixed on Dan’s face like Dan’s telling the most riveting story Phil’s ever heard.

“That’s amazing, that must be really hard to avoid,” Phil says. “No wool and stuff.” Dan shrugs.

“Not really, if you know where to look.”

Phil smiles brightly at him and Dan’s stomach does the flipping thing again. He wishes he’d talked to Phil before this – he’s really incredibly kind. Nothing like the rest of his Cool Sports Dude friends, all of whom are assholes to Dan. They don’t like his accent, or the way he dresses, and him being vegan is just another thing they like to hold against him. He’s not ashamed of it – not in the slightest – but it does get exhausting to hear the constant dick jokes. They don’t make sense anyway – he  _doesn’t_  eat sausage. That’s sort of the point of being vegan.

Phil’s still looking at Dan like he’s the most fascinating thing Phil’s ever seen. Dan looks down at his textbook, his unfocused eyes making the letters go blurry on the page. He’s not used to this sort of attention, especially not from someone as fit as Phil.

They sit in silence until the bell signaling the end of class rings. Dan slides his textbook into his backpack and stands up, pushing his chair in as he does. Phil’s lingering a little, shuffling his papers into order and taking an unusually long time to zip his bag. The football players clatter out of the room, their voices as unnecessarily loud as they usually are, and then it’s just Dan, Phil, and a drama girl called Eloise in the classroom. She flashes Dan a brief smile on her way out the door.

And then there were two.

Dan hovers by a box of kleenex, his stomach fluttering a little. He’s trying very hard to look nonchalant, but he’s aware that he’s probably failing. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Phil stand up –  _finally –_  and make his way towards the door. Dan snatches a tissue and pretends to blow his nose, then squirts a dollop of hand sanitiser into his palm and leaves the science lab. He can hear Phil walking just a few steps behind him and swallows hard, weirdly nervous, before slowing down a little and letting Phil catch up.

“Oh, hey,” he says, looking over in faux surprise when Phil reaches his side. He knows he’s being obvious but at this point he doesn’t really care. Phil grins.

“Hi.”

They walk along the hallway for a little while, in the golden slipstream of people who aren’t running in the center but also aren’t gossiping next to the lockers on either wall. It’s loud, slamming lockers and shouted conversations making it hard to hear much of anything, but Dan’s still very aware of Phil’s presence at his elbow. He’s wearing a navy blue plaid shirt under an army jacket, a trend that Dan hadn’t really cared about up until now, and he looks incredibly nice.

“What’s your next class?” Phil asks. Dan swallows hard and glances at one of the analog clocks that are placed at regular intervals down the halls. It’s half-noon.

“Er, I have a free period,” he says. “I usually eat lunch now. Or go to the library, but.” He gestures at the windows, which are being pummeled with torrential rain. “Don’t really want to cross the street to go to the other building.”

“I wouldn’t either,” Phil agrees, his eyes wide like they’re discussing something very serious. Then he gives Dan a tentative smile. “I actually, er, I have a free period now too. D'you want to sit with me for lunch?”

Dan blinks at him once, twice. He wants to say yes, but there’s a tiny part of his brain telling him that Phil’s taking the piss.

“This isn’t a prank, is it?” he says cautiously. Phil’s eyes go even wider, if that’s possible, and he shakes his head.

“No! No way, I think you’re really interesting, I  _want_ to sit with you!” he insists. Dan’s stomach feels fizzy and there’s warmth radiating from behind his bellybutton to the tips of his fingers. He’d probably be blushing if that was a thing that his skin did.

“Okay,” he says, a little shy now. Phil beams.

The warning bell rings, signifying the last minute before the next class period starts, and all around them people start to speedwalk. Dan watches luxuriously, enjoying the thought of chilling with Phil for the next forty minutes.

“We should hurry too,” Phil says, and Dan feels a tiny thrill at Phil’s use of the word  _we_. “They’ve been a lot more strict about people being in the halls after the bell.”

They pick up the pace, hurrying past a pack of freshmen who keep shrieking. Dan winces. There’s no way he was that annoying last year.

“You’re a sophomore, right?” Phil asks as they approach the cafeteria. Dan nods. “Okay, do you want to eat in the main caf or do you want me to sneak you into the upperclassmen lounge?”

Dan hesitates. It’s incredibly loud in the west caf, and it smells like overcooked peas. He’s been in the upperclassmen lounge before, for after-school activities, and although it still smells of peas, it’s significantly less loud and full of freshman. The answer is obvious.

“Lounge, if you can,” he says, and Phil grins.

“Rebel,” he teases. “Never expected rule breaking from you.”

“What makes you think I’m not a rule breaker?” Dan asks, laughing. Phil raises his eyebrows, looking delighted, and gestures at Dan.

“You don’t really look the part,” he says, eying Dan’s pastel pink jumper and white jeans. Dan swallows hard. This is the first time Phil’s acknowledged what he wears and he’s a bit nervous. People are shitty to him about it a lot.

“It’s all a disguise,” he informs Phil, his voice surprisingly steady considering how wobbly he feels. They turn left by the west caf and start climbing the stairs to the upperclassmen lounge just as the tardy bell rings. Fortunately there’s not many teachers in this area of the school, as most of the ones on lunch duty stay in the west caf to keep the freshmen and sophomores under control. “People think I’m this innocent little cherub when actually I break rules all the time.” He leans in a little, lowers his voice. “Yesterday when I got back from my dentist appointment I  _jaywalked_ to get back to class from the main office.”

Phil jerks back and gasps in fake horror, his eyes comically wide and his mouth falling open.

“You’re terrible!” he says dramatically, before bursting into giggles. Dan grins, a sense of self-satisfaction making his chest feel warm. Phil thinks he’s  _funny_.

“You’re the one sneaking me into the upperclassmen lounge,” Dan points out, and Phil grins and nods.

Getting into the U-Lounge is surprisingly easy. The elderly teacher manning the desk near the door is half asleep and Phil ushers Dan in quickly, then steers him to a table on the other side of the room. Dan sinks into a chair with his back to the door and lets out a long breath, then opens up his backpack and pulls out his water bottle.

“Here,” Phil says, shrugging off his army jacket and putting it on the table in front of Dan. “You kind of stick out. With your pink and stuff.”

Dan blinks at him. Phil pushes the jacket closer, his eyes big and his expression serious. He looks a bit like a puppy. Dan’s stomach is fluttering.

“Yeah, okay,” he agrees, a little shy now. He picks up the jacket and slides one arm into it, then the other. It’s a bit too big on him, baggy at the shoulders and too long in the sleeves, and it smells like Phil’s deodorant and cologne and a bit like the woods. “Thanks.”

Phil’s staring at him, a faint blush rising on his cheekbones. Dan feels warm all over.

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Phil says quickly, his fingers fidgeting with the buttons on his blue plaid shirt. He reaches up and adjusts his fringe. It’s an unbearably cute gesture and Dan kind of wants to kiss him.

He’s not sure when he started having proper feelings for Phil. He’s always found him attractive, but he hasn’t had enough exposure to Phil as a human to develop more than a passing infatuation. This, though, this  _wanting to kiss him_ thing, this nervous fluttering in his stomach, this is new.

Dan uncaps his water bottle and takes a long swig. If he intentionally tilts his head back and exposes the length of his neck for a few seconds, that’s nobody’s business but his own.

He catches Phil staring and leans down to unzip his backpack so he can hide his triumphant smile under the table. When he resurfaces, packed lunch in hand and still smiling a little, Phil’s looking down at his phone with two bright spots of pink on his cheekbones.

“Did you have food?” Dan asks. Phil locks his phone and shrugs.

“I was gonna get pizza, but the line is really long,” he says. “It’s fine.”

“You can have some of my lunch if you want,” Dan offers, opening up his paper bag. “I have carrots, an apple, a granola bar, some leftover cold sesame noodles, vegan chocolate chip cookie….” His voice trails off and he looks over at Phil expectantly. Phil hesitates, then shrugs.

“I’m okay,” he says. Dan shakes his head.

“No way, I’m gonna introduce you to veganism,” he says determinedly. Phil grins.

“If you insist.”

Lunch passes far too quickly for Dan’s liking, and before he knows it it’s time for him to go to American Lit. He packs up his things and starts to slip out of Phil’s jacket, but Phil shakes his head.

“You can keep it for now, I don’t have to cross the street for the rest of the day,” he tells Dan, who raises his eyebrows, concerned.

“Are you sure?” he asks. Phil nods.

“Definitely, it’s so gross out. Just meet me by the music wing after ninth period, I can give you a ride home.”

“Wow, really?” Dan says shyly. Phil smiles at him, his eyes sparkling.

“Definitely,” he repeats. The bell rings and they both stand up, although neither of them move to leave the U-Lounge yet. Dan’s very aware of the time limit that’s pressing on them, but he doesn’t really care.

“Thanks,” he says. Phil nods, his smile soft and tentative. Then his eyes go wide and he whips out his phone, unlocking it and handing it to Dan.

“Give me your number, in case I’m running late. My stats teacher likes to hold us after the bell and that’s what I have ninth period, so.” Dan takes the iphone and types in his number, putting a pink flower emoji and the sunglasses emoji after his name, then hands it back to Phil, who glances at the contact and grins.

“Cool, I’ll text you then,” he says. Dan nods. He needs to go so he’s not late for class, but he doesn’t particularly want to leave.

“Get to class boys!” the teacher by the door calls, and Phil waves at her sheepishly.

“I gotta go,” he says, and Dan nods again.

“Yeah, me too, can’t be late. I have Dorian, he’ll skin me,” he agrees. Phil winces.

“He’s a piece of work.” He exhales quickly and shifts the weight of his backpack from one shoulder to the other. “I’ll see you a little after three then!”

“Yup,” Dan confirms. They grin at each other. “See you.”

He ends up having to sprint to get to Am Lit in time, but when his phone buzzes a few minutes later with a  _hey! it’s phil_ followed by a warthog emoji and two chocolate chip cookies, he doesn’t even mind.


End file.
